


the lion with a thorn in his paw

by ocelot



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-03
Updated: 2014-04-03
Packaged: 2018-01-18 01:00:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1409191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ocelot/pseuds/ocelot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She smelled of burnt down churches. He was the only sanctuary she needed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the lion with a thorn in his paw

They dressed in each other’s clothes.

Her in his armor, it glittered in the morning sun, and him in her dress, it overflowed his skinny legs. In his armor she could be him. Be near him without her hands pressed to the hollows of his hipbones. Without her ear against his chest – it was his heartbeat that drowned out her fears. He only breathed when she touched him.

Crushed velvet under his fingers and silk ticking at his collarbone he felt what she must have felt – _weak._ His sister was anything but weak.

They played at games other children their age had half a mind to forget. She moved across him like a chessboard. King and queen, but they would never marry.

Cersei drew the blade across his neck and felt his skin prickle and his blood roar against the cold metal. But she never hurt him, at least not in the way that left scars.

“Don’t let father see,” hushed Jaime, but their father knew of the beast that lived inside of her. He knew of her hunger. 

She smelled of burnt down churches. He was the only sanctuary she needed.

He would come to her chambers at night and slip between the covers. They shared a womb, a room in the silence of their hearts that only drummed for the other’s touch. She couldn’t sleep without his arm draped over her waist, his fingers curled around hers, his mouth pressed to her neck.  

Every touch that wasn’t his left ghosts howling in her bones.

His touch felt like her own, but kinder. His smell lingered on her skin.

***

She dressed well and smiled prettily because her interiors were black and dusty. She was the envy of all the girls, but she didn’t want their envy. Their black eyes and dull hair spilling over their pallid faces like curtains as they watched her. Whispering _always_ whispering their lies, but they weren’t lies.

A bouquet of boys trailed after her wherever she went calling her things that would have made other girls blush. She had courtships, but she only had one lover.   

Prized and paraded like a pet rather than a daughter. _His_ daughter. Tywin should have known she was the strong one.

She roared silently in her cage. It was a nice cage, but a cage nonetheless.

***

Cersei undressed him with her eyes. Jaime was naked with her. Before he laid down his armor and took off his undershirt and bared his soul.

He kissed her hard, harder than he had ever kissed her. He had missed her. He felt her every second he was without her. Not like his hand. She was a part of him, something that couldn’t be beaten out of him or cut off.

He tasted the wine on her lips. She disappeared in bottles of wine and long stretches of silence, hoping to find him there, but she never did. She only stared down lesser versions of herself.   

Her tongue caught on barbed wire when her fingers brushed against the nub.

She looked away from him. Her eyes lost in the tangles of her mane, but she had never been able to hide from him. He cupped her face in his hand and turned her gaze to his.

_I’m back._ He wanted to say. But his hand wasn’t all that had been taken from him.

She had her claws in him. Still, after all these years, _always._ She wouldn’t retract them.   

He would bury himself with her if he could – coiled around her body like a flower around a poisonous vine.


End file.
